


Sparks at the Heart of Voltron

by phoenixyfriend



Category: Girl Genius (Webcomic), Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, M/M, Multi, tags to be added as story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-01-27 00:13:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12569344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixyfriend/pseuds/phoenixyfriend
Summary: A few universes away, Team Voltron's story took a very, very different shape, one that mostly just screamed "Mad genius, run!" and then bolted in fear.





	1. Stolen Locket

**Author's Note:**

> The story's going to diverge more and more as it progresses. The early chapters, particularly this one, are going to be a much closer parallel to GG canon than the later ones, so if you're dreading a word-for-word replay of GG with Voltron characters, I can assure you that there's going to be some interesting fun in the future. I'll include a list of parallels at the bottom of each chapter when someone new is introduced.
> 
> I've got most of my parallels chosen so far. There's really only three characters from GG that I don't have a parallel for so far, but they're all from late enough in the GG plot that I can wait for a new Voltron season to introduce some possible characters.
> 
> Not every character with get a parallel, mostly because there's such a discrepancy in terms of cast size. GG's cast is absolutely massive, while Voltron's is... well, it's growing, but it's not there yet.

Pidge was… conflicted.

About a lot of things.

Currently, she was conflicted in the sense that what she _wanted_ to do was nurse her headache, try to fix her little clanks, and dwell on the loss of her locket, present from her uncle and holding pictures of her parents, maybe even freak out over the whole dimensional rift thing from the town. However, what she _had_ to do was organize the lab since the Baron was visiting, and Dr. Haxus was already talking trash.

So.

That was happening.

Pidge preferred color-coding to anything else, when she had to organize things. It made her feel a little more competent, a little more sure, a little less like a total fuck-up. It was also something she didn’t really have time for at the moment, since she had to clear up this _disaster area_ of a lab.

So… storage closet it was.

o.o.o.o.o

Baron Kolivan Marmora was, for all his faults, as sane a Spark as Pidge had ever seen. The only Spark Beetleburg really had to call its own was Dr. Iverson, and he was doing his best to keep the Marmora folk _out_ , though without much success. The Jägermonsters were proving more than adept at getting the clanks out of the way, for one thing.

Pidge watched as introductions were made, and made a little “eep!” noise when Iverson started freaking out over the missing locket.

“It was stolen!” Pidge protested. “I didn’t lose it or anything, but there was an electrical anomaly of some sort in the city while I was on my way here, and I ran into some soldiers when I tried to get away, and they just stole it, and—”

“Stolen? In _my_ city?” Iverson demanded.

“I’m feeling much better, though, so—”

“Nonsense,” Iverson said, turning to Baron Marmora. “The girl is clearly distraught and should go home straight away. Now, if you would _excuse me_ , I should—”

“Wait,” the Baron ordered. “You saw the event?”

“I… yeah, I did,” Pidge said, adjusting her glasses. “I was right there, in the middle of it. It got my glasses, even, and I saw the big portal.”

“Portal?” The Baron asked. “Stay. I’ll have questions for you later.”

“I must insist that she return home, Kolivan,” Iverson said.

“I’m fine, really.”

“She seems fine,” the Baron said. “Your concern is impressive, but unnecessary. Now, the dihoxulator? It appears incomplete, despite ample time to create it according to my instructions. I was under the impression that I’d explained the underlying theory without any trouble regarding miscommunication.”

Pidge stepped back and watched as Haxus and Glassvitch tried to explain why the machine wasn’t working. She made a face when the Baron called his son up to take a look at it.

 _Keith?_ What a… weird name.

The Baron and _Keith_ started talking, discussing the theory behind the machine, and it just…

“Miss Holt! Stop that infernal humming!”

“Sorry Haxus!” Pidge yelped. “I was just… listening to the Baron, and something isn’t _right_ , and—”

“Silence!”

And that was when Keith went full Sparky nonsense and tried to open the storage room.

And then…

o.o.o.o.o

Pidge had never _liked_ Iverson much, but he was fair. He kept her on because she worked hard, even if her brain never functioned quite right, and he’d taught her what he could. He’d always seemed to trust that she’d get it eventually, and to be fair, she usually _had_ understood it, even when she couldn’t really put it into practice.

 _But he threw a bomb at me!_ Ugh, what an _excuse_. So what if he threw a bomb? Lots of people threw bombs! That didn’t mean he’d had to _kill_ the man!

She burst into the shop, slamming into her adoptive in an attempt at a hug. “Oh Sam, I’ve had the most awful day in existence!”

Her babbling was cut off as Colleen showed up, and then… well, then it was time for hugs. And grieving the locket. And… and moving?!

Pidge didn’t want to _move_.

Ugh. Whatever. She’d just… take a nap or something.

Pidge woke up to an angry soldier, a mess of a workshop, and oil on her, well, everything.

o.o.o.o.o

“Antok?”

“Not one of ours, sir. Not from out of town. Looks safe.”

“You’re sure?”

“Very.”

Keith waited, bored, as the giant clank took a scan of the Jägers and tossed it back. Then, of course, Kolivan decided to ask for his opinion, and—

Oh, distraction?

Keith could be a distraction.

Keith could be a _great_ distraction.

Keith was very, very good at jumping around moving machinery and not dying in the process.

Of course, that didn’t go nearly the way he’d planned…

“Keith! How _dare_ you put yourself at risk!” Kolivan shouted as he came up to him. “You or I may very well _be_ this device’s quarry! I needed a distraction, not a sacrifice!”

Big words, Keith thought, for the man who’d _taught_ him how to fight like that.

“Besides, that’s what the Jägers are for!”

Keith made a face, stepping back and trying not to make it obvious that he was upset.

“Hey keed—” one of the Jägers said, clapping him on the shoulder, and then proceeded to give him one of the strangest yet most successful pep talks he’d ever gotten, right before they were headed off to do… something?

“—simply reversed the task order. Now, let’s run!” Kolivan ordered. “Tell me what we’ll find.”

“Not everything has to be a test,” Keith protested.

 “ _Life_ is a test! Knowledge or death, child, now answer!”

…joy.

o.o.o.o.o

So, _apparently_ , Pidge’s erstwhile visitor _hadn’t_ trashed the shop or brought her down in the first place, which really just raised more questions than answers at this point.

Then the clank showed up, and listened to her, which was nice. That was _really_ nice, actually, but she didn’t really have much time to enjoy the feeling after the gas showed up.

o.o.o.o.o

Keith wasn’t good at people. Oh _god_ , he wasn’t good at people, but he _was_ good at details.

And a detail like oily fingers on the woman and clean on the man?

 _That_ was a clue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone ends up doing art for this, I'll probably squee.
> 
>  **Parallels introduced this chapter:**  
>  Pidge - Agatha Clay/Heterodyne  
> Keith - Gilgamesh Wulfenbach  
> Kolivan - Baron Klaus Wulfenbach  
> Antok - Boris Dolokhov  
> Commander Iverson - Dr. Beetle  
> Haxus - Dr. Merlot  
> Sam Holt - Adam Clay (Punch)  
> Colleen Holt - Lilith Clay (Judy)  
> Hunk - Moloch Von Zinzer
> 
> Note: Pidge still has long hair here, but, much like Hunk being Moloch, it didn't come up. A lot of details are going to be getting filled in with the next chapter.


	2. Flying Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge is not happy. Pidge is not happy at all.
> 
> (Okay so... maybe a little bit.)
> 
> Volume II - Pt I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first scene is parallel to the GG canon, just adjusted a bit for characterization. (I know Von Zinzer gets better later, but even stressed Hunk is... yeah.)
> 
> At one point, you are going to see a name that is not the name you expect. You might not be sure who this swapped character is. If you want to know more, check the end notes. Have fun!
> 
> I did my best to avoid "person finds out character is trans by seeing them partly/mostly naked." Hunk is polite enough not to bring it up because he has other, more legitimate grievances (and he's trans too, though Pidge doesn't know this). Sleipnir's just an oblivious cis girl who wouldn't have a problem with it but isn't exactly going to pick up on the hints that Pidge is deliberately dropping (like the medicine and current aversion to pants) without having it spelled out for her.  
> (Note: I am cis. I will, at some point, make a mistake. I am going to do my best to avoid my headcanon for Pidge and Agatha's canon circumstances from combining into ugly tropes like the above, so tell me if I mess up.)
> 
> Also, both Keith and Pidge are autistic, because I like to project onto characters. Yay!

Pidge did not wake up peacefully.

She had about two seconds to stretch and wonder about where it was that she’d ended up before there was a hand on her mouth and a man that was much larger than her tiny-framed self leaning into her space.

“Quiet! _Quiet!_ I’m not going to hurt you, but we’re both in deep trouble if you do something stupid!” The soldier from town said. “Now I’m going to take my hand away. I’m giving you one chance. _Don’t blow it.”_

Pidge stayed quiet.

“Okay. Great.” The soldier sat down on the other bed and groaned, running his hands down his face. Pidge stood up and tried very hard to ignore the breeze that told her just how much she _wasn’t_ wearing. “Thanks for that.”

“Uh...” Pidge didn’t know how to answer that.

“Just... listen,” the soldier said. “We’re prisoners of Baron Marmora.”

“What? Why the _hell—”_

“Because of the clank that I supposedly built in Beetleburg.”

“Wait,” Pidge said. “ _You_ built that thing?”

“Of course not!” the soldier exclaimed. “But he _thinks_ I did, and do you think I’m going to tell the Baron he’s made a mistake? No. No, I am not. I am absolutely _not_ going to be that guy, so I’m his madboy until I can make a break for it.”

“So... what does he want?” Pidge asked.

“For me to make more of those clanks,” the soldier told her.

“Jeez. You’re in hell of a fucking pickle.”

The soldier gave her a flat look.

“Sorry. One heck of a fucking pickle.”

The soldier groaned and leaned forward, digging his hands into his hair. “ _We’re_ in that pickle, buddy. He thinks you’re my assistant.”

Pidge took a moment to process that, and then the anger came.

_“What?!”_

“It wasn’t my idea so—”

“Forget it!” Pidge yelled, storming to the door and preparing to leave. “You can just get out and—”

“Whoo!”

“...” Pidge turned to look out the door, noting that there were far, far more people there than she’d expected.

She closed it with a slam.

“Do these people know you’re in here with my in my underwear?” She demanded. Sure, it was pretty covering underwear, but she didn’t exactly like people seeing her in it.

“Don’t worry about your reputation,” the soldier said, as if that was what was important here.

“No? I’ve _never—”_

“They already think we’re lovers,” the soldier said, somewhat morosely.

Pidge stared at him.

“I mean, you’re not my type,” he sighed. “But I guess I could fake it for the—”

“Not your _type?_ ” Pidge demanded, voice low and a little dangerous, if she was optimistic about it. He’d already seen her mostly naked. He could guess, maybe. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re... tiny,” he said, hands coming up to mime holding her around the waist. “Like... bird-boned. You look like you’d break if I so much as looked at you wrong.”

Oh. Well. That was much better than what she’d expected.

“Well, assholes who steal jewelry aren’t exactly my type either,” she said after a moment, focusing back on the earlier topic. “Besides, why should I let _anyone_ think that—”

“Because _I_ didn’t build that clank!” the soldier shouted. “Your father did, didn’t he?”

“Wh—Sam?” Pidge asked.

“It was his shop, right? And it put you down when you told it to, so... what? Are you saying _you_ built it?”

Pidge pursed her lips together and glared at the guy.

“Listen, I don’t wanna be here any more than you do,” the soldier said. “But unless you want me to tell the Baron where he can get a _real_ madboy...”

Pidge glared harder.

“I will, unless we have a deal,” the soldier said. “Do we?”

“...fine,” Pidge grumbled out. “Why am I even _here?_ You’re the supposed Spark.”

“Baron Marmora thinks you’re my girlfriend, and that I built the clank for you because you were mad about him killing Dr. Iverson. Any holes?”

“Yeah, your friend.”

“My _brother_ ,” the soldier practically growled. “And seeing as your little device _killed_ him, I don’t think we’re going to have to worry about that.”

“ _What?”_ Pidge asked.

“And if you’re hoping to see me go the same way, you’ve got another thing coming,” the soldier said, pulling out the locket but keeping it up too high for her to reach. “Whatever this thing is, it’s been deactivated.”

“Wh—my locket! Give it back!” Pidge yelled, jumping and clinging and trying very hard to just clamber up the man in front of her and get her stuff back.

“...Omar was my brother, but he did steal from you,” the soldier said. “That’s something I can’t really just... pretend didn’t happen. So yeah. I get outta here and we’re square. But if you mess with me...”

Pidge steamed as the soldier left, tossing an overacted line over his shoulder as he called her ‘doll’ and just... just... _urgh!_

 _And_ he hadn’t left her any food, and there were two beds, which meant he was probably _sleeping_ here, and—

“Knock knock! Decent?”

That was how Pidge met Sleipnir O’Hara.

o.o.o.o.o

An introduction, a short tour, and a shower later, Pidge was once again fully clothed.

“You’ve never worn trousers before, _have_ you?” Sleipnir teased.

“More than I’d like to admit, actually,” Pidge said. She made a face at her reflection’s silhouette. “Are you _sure_ you don’t have anything at least a bit more feminine? I don’t want to get mistaken for a boy.”

“Sorry,” Sleipnir said. “Maybe we can scrounge something up later, but right now... no dice. Besides, your hair’s to die for and you’ve got a cute face, so I don’t think you’ll have any problems on that front.”

Pidge bit her lip, tried to see herself objectively, and nodded. “Alright. I’ll trust your judgement on that, but I want a dress soon. I’m not really comfortable like this.”

Sleipnir grinned and threw an arm over her shoulder. “Will do! We may be hostages, but the Baron likes to keep us happy so we don’t cause _too_ much trouble.”

Pidge nodded, thinking that over. “Does that include medicines that aren’t _entirely_ necessary to health?”

“Like vitamins?” Sleipnir asked.

“Sure.”

“Well, yeah, I guess,” Sleipnir said, considering it. “So long as you aren’t using them to do some altered brainstate stuff or whatever, you’re probably in the clear.”

“I can confirm that I’m not going to be getting high off of anything other than caffeine and sugar,” Pidge said flatly, even though she'd never had coffee and rarely even had tea before, since Colleen had insisted that it wasn't healthy for a young woman to drink especially if she wanted to hit a growth spurt any time soon.

Sleipnir laughed. “Oh, you’re going to be a _fun_ one, I bet.”

“...thanks.”

o.o.o.o.o

“Meaning?” Pidge asked.

Sleipnir grinned. It wasn’t exactly a _nice_ grin, but it was commiserating in its own way. “Welcome to the bottom of the heap.”

Well... that wasn’t exactly new for Pidge. She hadn’t exactly been top student at the school in Beetleburg either, and being bottom-tier _did_ mean she’d probably fly under the Baron’s radar more easily.

And, well, the whole pecking order did sound like a load of horse dung, but at least it made sense. Royalty was higher, Sparks higher still. Closer relation to one or the other was important, and a mix of both put you at the top. Some people faked not having either so as to hide their importance... which apparently included Keith.

“Funny,” Pidge repeated doubtfully. “Keith Marmora, _funny_.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sleipnir cheerfully confirmed, and upon prompting, launched into a different tangent about the arranged marriage she was looking forward to in other parts, which led into something about Keith never having any girlfriends, or boyfriends, when Pidge asked on that front, not that it surprised her; what she’d seen hadn’t exactly endeared her to him, so she was a little viciously pleased to find that he hadn’t had any real romantic luck.

 _That_ somehow led into a horror story about the group’s nanny, a construct named Von Pinn, a very growly woman who apparently had a _thing_ about Honerva Mongfish, if the stories were to be believed.

“Miss Holt?”

“Ah! Yes! Me, that’s me, right, hi, what do you want?” Pidge yelped, stammered, and rambled as the unfamiliar voice startled her.

The man in the doorway stared at her mostly impassively, though the corners of his lips did twitch like he was fighting back a smile. White hair fell into his eyes, and a scar ran across his nose in a way that looked unnervingly deliberate.

“I am Ryou Shirogane, Master Keith’s man. I am here to escort you to him, if it’s convenient?”

Pidge hesitated, wide-eyed.

“Relax, Pidge,” Sleipnir assured her. “It’s not like he _kills_ people.”

Pidge blinked. Then she turned and strode towards the door, leaning down and forward and trying to drag as much intimidation into her five-foot-nothing frame as she could.

“Let’s do this.”

o.o.o.o.o

The intimidating façade didn’t last long, because Pidge was easily distracted when things were big and shiny and demanded her attention.

“This place is _huge_.”

“I know,” Ryou said with a smile that was strangely indulgent. “But I think you’ll be happy to know we’ve made it.”

“Miss Pidge Holt,” Ryou announced as they entered the lab.

“Miss Holt!” Keith said, waving. “You’re up! Hey, could you bring me the left-handed luring wrench?” He turned to address a small construct on the ground. “Hey, Blade? Bring her some tea.”

“Squee!”

He ignored her for a bit, saying something she wasn’t entirely interested it until she shoved the wrench into his face with a grumpy, “Here.”

Keith skipped the pleasantries as soon as she made it obvious how upset she was, and didn’t even try to talk down at her, which was nice. He was blunt, and gave her the facts and his opinions, and as much as she didn’t _like_ his facts or opinions, he didn’t seem biased or like he was lying, which was... something, even if he _did_ ask her a little too pointedly about where Sam and Colleen were.

“So... let’s talk about Von Zinzer,” Keith said, with a grin that Pidge immediately hated.

(It looked almost as forced and as fake as her own.)

“Who?”

“Hunk Von Zinzer? The man you build clanks with, in your _underwear?”_ Keith said, and kept pressing in a way that Pidge would have called teasing if he weren’t so obviously digging for information and, well... awkward.

And then he dropped them out of the sky and into _open fucking air._

“What have you _done?!_

“Watch this!” Keith yelled, smirking, and pulled a lever.

Nothing happened.

“It’s a falling machine,” Pidge said through grit teeth. “I’m so _impressed_.”

“Weird,” Keith said, like they weren’t about to die from his own impulsiveness. “It worked perfectly on paper.”

Un.

Fucking.

Believable.

Pidge shoved him out of the way and got a look at the engine. It was... well, it was better than anything she’d ever designed before, since he was a Spark and she obviously wasn’t, but _come on_. She could spot so many flaws in the system and she hadn’t even had a look at the blueprints! She’d barely looked at the _engine_ for two seconds and it was impossible, and—

They managed to fix it in time to survive, but only because Blade tapped her on the shoulder to remind her that they were still falling.

Oops.

o.o.o.o.o

So, Pidge was living on a castle that was also an airship, and thus nearly impossible to escape. _Great_.

...at least Keith thought she was worth keeping around for her brain. That was new. And appreciated.

...okay, so maybe he wasn’t as bad as she’d thought.

He still managed to crash them through a window and into a Jäger general conference room, so points off for that, even if he did ask if she was okay before anything else.

“General Gyrgan!” Keith then addressed the Jäger in the room. “Are _you_ alright?”

(Of course, they then found out that Kolivan was going to be there in five minutes, so Pidge didn’t exactly get to stay around to chat for long.)

“I do _not_ think she ‘smells nice!’”

Never mind.

Keith was an asshole.

o.o.o.o.o

Madam Von Pinn.

Madam... Von Pinn.

The woman was indeed terrifying.

She was a woman of few words, simple sentences, and pointy, pointy teeth.

Von Pinn also insulted Colleen and Sam, so obviously, Pidge wasn’t the biggest fan.

“ **And wHat is wroNg with MastEr KEith?** ” Von Pinn demanded after Pidge insulted him, dangerously quiet.

“Put me down, you fucking construct!”

Sure, Von Pinn dropped Pidge, but she followed up the dropping with lots of fire and threats and honestly, Pidge was very close to losing her shit before Von Pinn left.

At least Theo seemed nice.

And Pidge finally got another dress, even if it was in red.

o.o.o.o.o

So, these kids all had something of a death-seeking troublemaker streak, which seemed par for the course by now. At this point, _Zulenna_ was looking like the most sensible of the bunch, which didn’t really speak well for the rest of Pidge’s time on board. Even then, Zulenna agreed to let the kid come along, and whether she had a way to keep him quiet or not, that didn’t make it a _good idea._

Especially since the idea to keep him quiet didn’t. Fucking. Work.

Time to run. Again. Damn it.

o.o.o.o.o

Kolivan had a sense of humor, though he didn’t often show it. He’d had plenty of adventures with the Heterodyne boys, and fought both with and against Honerva.

Fighting a dragon on Mars, however, had not happened, and (almost) certainly never would.

“Find Mister DuMedd and his companions,” he ordered. “Or you’ll be joining him in the kitchens until further notice.”

Constructs made from squirrels weren’t necessarily the most reliable of minio—of _employees_ , but they were rather easy to scare into not breaking the rules.

o.o.o.o.o

“Ah, you must be the villain’s beautiful daughter,” the man that was hanging over an improbably deep hole said. “Just in time.”

Pidge stared.

She kept staring.

That was a very, very orange mustache, and a very, very naked chest.

“The _what?”_ She finally asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen... the Castle of Lions is a flying castle... Castle Wulfenbach is a flying castle... it all FITS...
> 
>  **Parallels introduced this chapter:**  
> 
> Hunk - Moloch Von Zinzer (mentioned earlier, more explicitly spelled out here)  
> Ryou (Kuron) - Ardsley Wooster (yes, I know you expected Shiro. Shiro will show up eventually, just... not yet. You know how I said the stories would diverge as time goes on? This plays into the how/why of it.)  
> Blade - Zoing (tell me Keith wouldn't)  
> Gyrgan - General Khirzhan (or any male Jäger general, really; I'm not paralleling to a specific one. Khirzhan was just the one in the room)  
> Honerva/Haggar - Lucrezia/The Other  
> Coran - Othar
> 
> No, but seriously... "CORAN HIERONYMUS WIMBLEDON SMYTHE, _GENTLEMAN ADVENTURER"_ is an amazing mental image, especially if he does the posing and fonts.


	3. Fake Lovers, Real Spat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge settles a little further into castle life.
> 
> (And the author despairs over the fact that we've not yet reached the point of actual literary divergence.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blegh. I don't want to keep transcripting from the comics, but I need to push through so I can actually reach the part that DOES change.
> 
> Basically, I can't wait for the circus.

“You’re the baron’s beautiful daughter, surely.”

“I am _not_ the baron’s daughter,” Pidge said, mildly affronted and incredibly confused.

“Then you must be the plucky lab assistant, here to set me free.”

Pidge still had no idea what was going on. “Sorry, who _are_ you?”

“Ah, allow me to introduce myself, I am—

** CORAN HIERONYMUS WIMBLETON SMYTHE **

_ Gentleman Adventurer.” _

Pidge blinked.

That.

That was.

Why could she _hear_ the cursive?

“Perhaps you’ve heard of me. I’m told the stories are getting around,” Coran said, so calm and conversational that it almost had Pidge forgetting that the man was strapped into a machine over a seemingly bottomless hole.

“Coran. _The_ Coran,” Pidge said, deciding to play along. “The man who defeated the wooden warriors of Dr. Krause.”

“That would be me, yes.”

“The hero who saved the hamlet of Lunkhauser from the ever-widening moat.”

“The very same.”

“The savior of the town of Horeb from the rain of mustard.”

“I... uh... I’m afraid you have me on that one.”

“I made it up,” Pidge said. She peered down into the chasm, red skirts swishing around her ankles. She really needed something that suited her a little better. “You don’t seem _worried..._ ”

“About being a prisoner?” Coran asked. He moved slightly, an attempt at a shrug that was stymied by his bonds. “Well, I do admit it’s inconvenient, but I’ll escape eventually. I’m the hero, after all, and _you_ are just what I need.”

“An audience?” Pidge asked, ignoring the fact that there was dynamite tied to the man’s _toes_. She headed for the wall.

“Ye-no! You can be my spunky girl sidekick. I’m fresh out at the moment,” Coran said, and then kept rambling while Pidge made her way to the tiny ledge at the wall and scooted her way around the chasm, heading right for the controls. “Release me and we’ll blow up the Baron’s dirigible of doom, escape by the skin of our teeth, and then it’s cocoa and schnapps all ‘round.”

“Spunky girl sidekick,” Pidge repeated, like it didn’t sound just a tiny bit appealing. She’d rather be a hero in her own right, but it was a step in the right direction. Entry-level work, really.

“Sure. It’ll be _fun!_ ”

Pidge proceeded to explain why she wasn’t going to fall for that so easily, rounding it off with a smug little line as Coran tried to stammer his way out of trouble. “This girl sidekick job doesn’t call for a lot of _smarts_ , does it?”

“Um, not as such,” he admitted. “But no matter what I am, is it  _right_  to leave a fellow sentient strung up like this?”

“Well,” Pidge mused, looking at the controls. “That depends upon the nature of the experiment...”

A voice at the door interrupted her thoughts. “Vot's all dis yakkink— Gott's little feesh in trousers!”

The Jägers accused her of being the exact thing she’d just finished explaining she wasn’t, but then proceeded to get into an argument about killing her... and Coran... and everyone else, apparently.

“ _Gorb_. Dis iz turnink into vun of _dose_ plans... hyu know—de kind vere ve keel everybody dot notices dot ve’s killink people?”

“It is?”

“Uh-huh. And how do dose alvays end?”

“De dirigible iz in flames, everyboddyz dead, an' I've lost my hat.”

“Dot's right. Und any plan vere you lose your hat iz?”

“A bad plan?”

Pidge resisted the urge to facepalm. “Okay. How about you _don’t_ kill me, and then _I_ don’t tell anyone you let me get in.”

While one of the Jägers seemed upset at the no-killing idea, the other seemed relieved at the option of not losing his job, and offered to take her back to her room. That was really good enough for Pidge.

“Howzabout I tek you beck to you qvaters, miz—”

“Pidge Holt.”

Their heads snapped around to look at each other in fear, and then one of them said something about a party. At that point, he picked her up over his head and carried her off.

Um.

Okay, then.

o.o.o.o.o

They managed to avoid having to deal with one of the Lackya, though Pidge ended up drawing some anger out of the Jäger escorting her when she insinuated that the Baron had taken the Jägerkin in after the Heterodynes went missing.

“Vot iz dis _shouting?_ ” One of the Jäger generals demanded, opening the door just beside them.

This led to an introduction to the other Jäger generals, some tea and food, getting her stuff back... and then more arguments between Jägers and being escorted to the dorms by a random Jäger who was... in love with Von Pinn, because of course he was.

Of _course_ he was.

o.o.o.o.o

Pidge almost... _almost_ stayed to listen to Keith’s stories about Paris. He didn’t look super comfortable with the story-telling, but that passing comment almost hooked her.

Still.

It had been a long, long day, and Pidge was tired.

“Hey!”

The cat at her desk streaked away to hide under her bed. She caught a faint glimpse of long, pale fur, and got to her knees to lift the covers and get a better look.

“Hiya, cat. Relax, I’m not hungry.” She got a slightly closer look, noticing the size and point coloration, though not much detail beyond that. “Jeez, you’re a big one, aincha?”

She waited, but no dice. With a sigh, she left the food for the cat and prepared for bed, thoughts awhirl with the events of the day.

The last thing she heard before falling asleep was the clatter of plates and glasses.

o.o.o.o.o

She woke up in a lab again.

That was awkward.

(Antok told off Hunk as Pidge sprinted off to put some clothes on, which was embarrassing in its own way, but also kind of hilarious.)

It was a mystery that was going to have to wait, though. “We’ll do inventory. That’ll kill a day or two.”

Hunk agreed, at least, and when she suggested making something herself, his only concerns were ones she’d already brought up herself in previous conversation, which was... honestly better than nothing. Still, the guy was a soldier, not a student, so she’d have to get him ready to fake at least a few things.

“This,” Pidge said, holding up the tool in question. “Is a wrench.”

“I _know_ it’s a wrench!”

“Ah, but what _kind?_ ” Pidge asked, just a little smug.

“A 3/17 occipital left-leaning Heterodyne wrench!” Hunk retorted, more than a little insulted.

Pidge looked at the wrench in shock, and then back at Hunk.

He crossed his arms and looked irritated.

“How do _you_ know that?!” She demanded.

He gestured at the steam engine next to them. “These days, machines are more important than soldiers. If you know how to _fix_ machines, it makes you more _valuable._ ”

He started talking, and almost against her will, Pidge started feeling sorry for him. The man had joined the army because he’d needed the work, and had lost everything when the Baron had destroyed his boss. He’d lost everything except his brother, and now he didn’t even have that.

“I didn’t know,” she admitted. “That’s really rough.”

“Of course you didn’t know,” Hunk griped. “You’re just a spoiled _townie_. The big towns are important. _They_ get cleaned up. Repaired. _Disinfected_. Not like the _rest_ of the world. Now get _out_.”

With a little logic, Pidge managed to convince him to keep her around, at least until they rang in for help from... uh... Dr. Dimitri, apparently.

(The bears thing was weird, she’d admit, but the man seemed harmless enough. Given the scars on his head, Pidge didn’t want to know what had made him that way.)

o.o.o.o.o

Pidge sat on the bed in her shared room, comfortable in the knowledge that Sleipnir was off doing something with Theo. She had her back to the wall and her arms looped around her knees, and... yeah, the bed was really comfortable. That was nice.

The thing was that Pidge didn’t want to be here. She wanted to go home to Beetleburg, reunite with her parents, and go back to school. She wanted to get her locket back. She wanted to tinker around with tiny clanks until something worked properly for once. She wanted—

Her alarm went off.

Pidge gave herself a few more moments to wallow, and then uncurled herself and shut off the alarm. She groped through the bedside table and... there we go. Needles and vials.

At least the Baron was okay with providing the hormones she needed.

o.o.o.o.o

Things with Hunk did not improve.

o.o.o.o.o

Things with Hunk, in fact, got markedly worse, to the point where Pidge ended up hitting him with a hammer and declaring her refusal to ever work with him again after the white-and-purple cat that had taken up residence in her rooms had bitten him.

(He deserved it. It was self-defense.)

Things swerved positively as Keith (the boy who was, she felt it necessary to mention, the son of the Baron himself), offered her a job as _his_ assistant instead, citing a 17% efficiency increase in his engine from her tinkering. Granted, he then teased her about her state of undress, but it was still something.

It hit her a little more fully when she was in her room again, though. “He listened to my suggestions! He actually tried out my ideas!” She couldn’t help her grin. “Nobody _ever_ listens to me! This is wonderful!”

She ran over to the cat in the corner, lifting it up so she could crow her success in his pointy purple face. “Do you _hear_ that, you beautiful, leg-biting cat?! I’m going to work in a _real_ lab! With someone who actually _listens_ to me! I’m finally going to do some _real_ science! What do you think of _that?!”_

The cat leaned in close, put up the joint of one paw like a finger, and said, with an accent she only barely recognized as received pronunciation, “ _I_ think _you’d_ better be _very, very careful._ ”

...what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Parallels introduced this chapter:**
> 
> Lotor - Krosp  
>  
> 
> .........I know you were probably expecting him to be Martellus or something but COME ON.


	4. I (Don't) Need a Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author finally came to terms with what's canon and started twisting everything around. It's so much more fun to actually be in the zone for a character instead of following the text, isn't it?

“The fuck are you?” Pidge demanded.

The cat made a face. “Really?”

“Did the Baron send you?”

“ _Really._ ”

“I think I deserve to be a little suspicious of a _talking cat_ in my room,” Pidge grumbled. She narrowed her eyes at him. “Have you watched me change?”

“You’re _human_ ,” the cat said, lip curling. “Believe me, I’m _not_ interested. And if you’re really so worried about that, now might be a good time to put on some more clothing.”

Pidge dropped him, crossing her arms. “Okay, fine. You’re obviously clever enough to hold a conversation. Who are you?”

“There isn’t time to talk now,” the cat said, walking around as though bipedal was the norm for him. “Someone is coming, and—”

“And I’m not going to let you run off and never give me answers,” Pidge immediately said.

“I didn’t need to show you I can talk,” the cat said. His tail swished irritably from one side to the other as he sat back down in a more properly feline position. “I have my reasons for speaking with you. I’ve also got _advice_ , if you’re willing to hear it.”

Pidge frowned. “Fine.”

“We can speak tonight, as your roommate has night duty at the engines this week,” the cat said. “Bring food, and be careful around young Mister Marmora. His actions are suspicious, and he knows you’re a Spark, so—”

“What?” Pidge yelped, arms finally dropping. “I’m not—”

“Of course you are,” the cat said, rolling his eyes as he brushed her off. “I’ve met enough to know what a breakthrough looks like. Besides, I—”

He froze, blue-and-yellow eyes widening before he disappeared over the edge of the table in a sweep of white and purple fur. “You didn’t see me.”

Pidge pursed her lips, stifling her annoyance as someone walked into the room.

“Miss Holt? I was told to bring you a cover-up.”

o.o.o.o.o

“Coran.”

“Kolivan.”

There was a long, quiet moment as the two stared at each other.

“I miss the days I called you friend,” Kolivan said, leaning against the wall with folded arms. “But really, Coran. This is getting ridiculous.”

“You may think you’re helping,” Coran said immediately, “But you’re failing to see the harm you’re causing along the way.”

“The population is growing at unprecedented rates, in part because the death rate has lowered now that there is less war and fewer Sparks running rampant,” Kolivan told him. “It’s a better system. Unpleasant to run, yes, but the results speak for themselves.”

“The ends do not justify the means, old friend,” Coran said. “And whatever your intentions, your means are only getting worse.”

“The road to hell?” Kolivan asked, fingers tracing over the wall of medical tools. This wasn’t his field, and quite frankly, he’d only had the stomach to do it once, though Dr. Vapnoople had been as close to a deserving victim as anyone short of Haggar herself would have been. But the atmosphere would lend itself to Coran talking; he’d always loved the drama of it all.

“Among other things.”

Scans, he could do. Some lovely machines had been developed in Prague earlier in the year, prototypes mostly, but they held the option of using magnetism and similar functions to see through bodies.

He didn’t want Coran dead, after all, or even harmed. He’d long been fond of the man, but…

Well, he could really have him running around, either.

“Herr Baron?”

Ah. Interruptions. Well, there were worse times.

“Yes, Antok?”

Kolivan’s assistant came in with Hunk Von Zinzer, who had some… rather odd requests.

Perhaps Von Zinzer would prove useful after all. The list of parts would be tricky, but if the man wasn’t playing him for a fool, then something interesting would come of it.

Granted, Antok had more concerns about some recent bureaucratic complaints, but at least they were the type to be easily fixed.

“Like running a kindergarten,” he sighed.

“Not having as much fun with the paperwork as you used to, then.”

“Oh, I never enjoyed it,” Kolivan said, running a hand through his hair.

“I beg to differ.”

“Perhaps a little,” he admitted. “However, _that_ was when I was running a spy ring and managing things from the shadows. This? Very different.”

“Then perhaps you should stop.”

“And let Europa fall apart and destroy itself and its people again? Hardly.”

“I doubt that—”

“Your pardon, Herr Baron.”

Kolivan closed his eyes and sighed. “Yes?”

(Theo DuMedd was not the most important of the children under his care, but he was clever and well-intentioned, if prone to flights of fancy and alcoholic experimentation. Still. Best not to bring him into the lab, not when Coran was here.)

Just when he thought he’d finally be able to start the conversation again, a new player appeared.

Ezor appeared suddenly in front of his face, hanging upside-down from the ceiling and fading into view with an oily blur. “Hey, boss man!”

“…Ezor,” Kolivan sighed. “Is this important?”

“Ehhhhhhhhhh kinda,” Ezor sighed, a bit of a whine in her voice. “But hey, _you’re_ the one who said he wanted to talk about the sciencey thing.”

“There are much better ways to…” Kolivan trailed off, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “The apparitions, Ezor.”

“Okay, okay, so,” Ezor, said, dropping to the floor and then hopping backwards to sit on Coran’s chest. Despite the surprised ‘ooph’ from the man, she didn’t seem to notice she was sitting on a person. “I was watching a gunboat burn. That one was a job, by the way, not just fun. Dumas’s soldiers, I had to take ‘em out.”

“I rather recall saying that a surrender was enough.”

Ezor blinked at him with wide eyes, her roped ponytail swinging wildly when she tilted her head in feigned confusion. “ _Anyway_ , there was all this _crackling_ , right? And then these people just, like… randomly appeared, _in the air_ , and _insulted me_.”

“I wonder why,” Kolivan said drily, raising his uninjured brow when Ezor stuck her tongue out at him.

“Okay, fine, so two weeks later, I’m investigating a town that got burned up, right? Not my fault by the way, that one _totally_ wasn’t me. It happened _again_ , and one of them looked like Keithy-boy, but dressed up like, uh… a druid! Yeah. One of those ghost ladies that worked for Haggar.”

“You do remember that he hates it when you call him that,” Kolivan said.

“Well _yeah_ , that’s why I _do_ it. Like when I throw things at some of your squirrely guys. They make funny noises and try to threaten me with a demotion and then I get to laugh at them,” Ezor said. “Anyway, wasn’t him, right? He’s been here or with you the entire time?”

“He has, but it’s none of your worry,” Kolivan said, mind already racing. Keith in a druid’s clothing was… well, it was a cause for worry, at any rate.

“Sooooooooooooo,” Ezor started, sidling up to him. “Any news on _my_ problem?”

“No, we still haven’t found anything,” Kolivan told her, well aware that it wasn’t the sort of thing that was very high on anyone’s list. People were going to put in the effort because Ezor scared them, but for as much charisma as she _could_ put out, she rarely bothered on Castle Marmora.

“Booooo,” she whined, the very picture of a petulant young woman. “Well, whatever. I’ll be in dock for a few days, so, see ya!”

It was amazing how incompetent she could make herself out to be, considering how very, very dangerous she was.

Kolivan rubbed at his temples, trying to avoid the stress headache he could already feel forming.

“You know, there’s some very interesting medication you could take for that,” Coran said, from a direction that was entirely incongruous with him being tied to a table.

Kolivan opened his eyes slowly, already aware of what he was going to find.

Coran grinned, and once more started in on the act. “ _Ha, villain! I_ realize your _reign of evil_ is at an _end!”_

Kolivan stifled the groan and grabbed for his blade. So be it.

o.o.o.o.o

Keith was almost charming, the next time Pidge met him. He called her “Miss Holt,” and introduced her to some lobster construct that he’d made as a child, and showed her around his lab.

“This is Ryou Shirogane,” Keith said, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder with surprising ease, considering how uncomfortable he’d seemed around most people so far. “He does my bragging for me.”

“I had the dubious pleasure of meeting him in Paris, and somehow I followed him here to be his assistant,” Ryou told her. “I’m still not sure why I agreed.”

Keith gave him a look that was more of a pout than anything, and Pidge had to hold back a snort. Instead, she said, “You let your assistants backtalk you like that?”

“Well, I don’t want _mindless sycophants_ ,” Keith said, making a face. “They aren’t fun _or_ useful, not until you’re working with economies of scale and mass production, and then it’s really better to just have them somewhat believe in the mission and be more interested in _our_ paycheck than in anyone else’s.”

“Learned that from your father, did you?” Pidge asked.

Keith shrugged, suddenly looking more than a little uncomfortable. “Well, uh… anyway. Do you want to know more about what your job is going to be?”

Pidge almost laughed at the lack of subtlety in the redirect, but she honestly _was_ interested. Finding out she was going to have the option of working on her own projects? She almost squeed.

There was a similarly unsubtle attempt to redirect her from a raunchy novel with an absurdly obvious title, but she let that slide, too.

Mostly because of the giant mechanical orchestra.

It was.

 _Wow_.

“Do you… wanna dance?” Keith asked, rubbing at his hair and looking away from her. One hand drifted down to play with the hilt of his knife, thumb rubbing over the blade again and again.

“Stop playing with that blade of yours, and… sure,” Pidge said, stepping forward and bringing her hands up. “I’m not really good, though.”

“Neither am I,” Keith admitted. “I had to take some lessons, but…”

“My mom tried to teach me, but I’m kinda made of two left feet,” Pidge told him. They swayed, instead, which brought them close enough for _Pidge_ to start pouting. “You’re too tall.”

“I think you’re just short, Miss Holt.”

She made a ‘hmph’ noise and looked away, though she didn’t stop dancing with him.

“Where’d you get the music?” She asked.

“Oh, uh, I wrote it,” he told her. “I’m not… I’m not really good at it, but it was something to do when the science got to be too much and I started getting frustrated over little things, back in Paris. Distractions that still had me pointing my creative juices in a productive direction.”

“Sounds like you’re quoting.”

“It was Ryou’s idea,” Keith said, shrugging. “I asked him where he’d learned how to redirect a Spark and he just looked kind of confused and then started laughing, so… I’m still not sure what’s going on there.”

“Well, I thought it was pretty good,” Pidge told him, hopping up and backwards onto the table. “You liked Paris?”

“Yeah, it was good. A little loud and crowded, but most places are,” Keith said, a small smile crossing his face when Pidge made a soft noise of agreement. “And you can find _anything_ there, if you go to the right places. Even real Heterodyne stuff!”

“Yeah?”

“Look at this,” Keith said, turning away from her to rummage through a cabinet. “I found it in a shop near the university in Paris. I’m still not sure what it does, and I don’t want to break it, but it’s definitely a Heterodyne piece.”

“Kinda looks like a lamp,” Pidge said.

“It’s _not_ a _lamp_ ,” Keith said, immediately grouchy. He didn’t seem to appreciate her grin.

“Your dad could help?”

“I don’t _want_ his help,” Keith said, frowning down at the not-lamp. “I can do this. I just need some time. He’s always telling me that I’m better than I think I am, and that if I just… calm down and stop letting my emotions get in the way—”

“Dude, emotions _happen_ ,” Pidge said, frowning. “We’re human, we’ve got chemicals in our brains that make us do weird stuff sometimes.”

“It’s… more complicated than that,” Keith said, making another face. Pidge couldn’t read him as well this time. “He’s right that I get frustrated about stuff that aren’t really related to the problem, or even all that useful.”

“Still sounds kinda harsh.”

Keith shrugged. “I’m finding the middle ground. Ryou helps.”

“If you say so,” Pidge said, well aware of how dubious she sounded.

“I’ve got other stuff?” Keith offered, gesturing at some other machine. “This one makes lighting, but—”

The machine went off, and then refused to do so again.

“That’s taking way too long to recharge,” Pidge surmised. Her fingers twitched with the desire to take the machine apart and put it back together again. She _liked_ electricity, always had. Powering clanks with tiny lightning was the closest anything came to making sense for her. Sure, they still broke down, but there was something… _right_.

She could figure it out eventually, she was sure of it.

And then Keith showed her the fencing robot.

He was good, of course. _Really_ good, actually, to the point where Pidge was actually surprised by it. He did a lot of fancy flips, eventually shifting to something that clearly wasn’t fencing and relied on whatever the black-and-purple knife in his hand was, and he was _good_.

Pidge still got the target first, though.

A thrown wrench apparently didn’t qualify as a real weapon, at least not the first time.

Pidge…

Well…

Okay, she wasn’t ashamed to say that she _really_ liked the frustrated-angry-worried look on Keith’s face when she got it the second time by just _not_ attacking. He’d outlined the parameters so specifically, after all. What was she supposed to do, _not_ test it?

“You’re just mad that I beat it twice,” she teased.

“I—there are _safety procedures!”_ Keith protested. “ _Precautions!”_

“Aw, were you worried about me?”

“Yes!”

“That’s cu—”

A half-naked man came crashing through the window.

“—oran, this is the _thirty-eighth time_ ,” Kolivan said, tired but nonetheless loud as he followed through, dusting his hands off. “We have been through this. _Please_ , just _stop_.”

“So! All the vipers are in evidence!” Coran yelled, glaring at Keith.

“Do you… still talk like that?” Keith asked, taking a step back and pushing Pidge with him as he did. She bit down the irritation. “Seriously?”

“It’s an act,” Kolivan said. “Would you like a shot at him, Keith? I’m rather tired, considering the runaround.”

“Is this another trial?”

“It’s certainly _something_ ,” Kolivan said, voice barely audible as he mashed a palm over his face.

“Should I go?” Pidge asked. “This kinda sounds like an internal matter. Family business. Whatever.”

“Coran’s an old friend who has _opinions_ on my work,” Kolivan offered, dodging as Coran threw a punch his way. “ _Strong_ opinions.”

 “Bah! Your empire is built on bullying and—”

“I’m leaving!” Pidge called over her shoulder, turning for the door. “Do whatever you want, I don’t care!”

“What?” Coran demanded, sounding vaguely affronted.

“You all obviously have history and I don’t really want to get involved,” Pidge said, already walking out the door. She waved a hand over her head. “Call me when there’s more science to do instead of whatever macho posturing you’re all trying to do there.”

She just barely heard some older laughter as she left the room, and some outraged noises that sounded a lot like Keith.

o.o.o.o.o

“Cat?”

“My _name_ is Lotor,” the cat said, leaping down from atop the dresser. “Dinner?”

“Is served,” Pidge said drily, putting the plate on the floor. “So, what are you?”

“A construct,” Lotor said, not bothering to meet her eyes as he investigated the food. “A cat with human intelligence, though not the first, I imagine.”

“So what’re you doing sneaking around Castle Marmora like this?”

“I was declared failed and ‘scheduled to be terminated,’” he said, just as drily as she had just seconds before. He actually did meet her eyes, then. “I’d imagine you’d try to make yourself scarce as well, if you’d been in such a situation.”

“You sound pretty smart to me,” Pidge said. She wrinkled her nose in thought. “Failure, huh?”

“There are better things to be suspicious of than me, Miss Holt,” Lotor told her. “And yes. I was made to be the Emperor of all cats. They could get into anywhere, be spies, saboteurs, and so on, and I would rule them all.”

“And?”

“Have you ever _met_ a cat?” Lotor asked, somehow manhandling the plate up to the bed to join her with paws far too dexterous for a normal cat. “A single flashing light and they lose all focus.”

“Sounds like Marnie from next door when she lost her meds,” Pidge commented.

Lotor let out a breathless laugh. “Hardly. _This_ is a species standard, not just a handful of cats whose minds don’t work quite the same. We didn’t evolve as humans did; even in friendly environments, our instincts are attuned to immediately pay attention to sudden movements and small objects, because they’re likely to be either predator or prey. And while _I_ can ignore those in favor of long-term plans and political maneuvering…”

“The rest of the species isn’t quite so lucky,” Pidge summarized. “So you were a failure because other elements of the experiment weren’t as useful as you were.”

Lotor shrugged, a motion that was strange to see on a cat. “As you say. It doesn’t help that the majority of them have trouble understanding their orders in the first place. Able to grasp complex concepts, they are not.”

“Anything you _can_ do?” Pidge asked, lying on her side and watching Lotor sniff around in search of the best parts to eat.

“I’m well-attuned to political thought, strategic maneuvering, undercover work…” Lotor sighed. “Quite frankly, I’m rather good at a _lot_ of things, far more than a being with a brain my size should be. But it’s hard to find someone willing to listen long enough to actually implement those skills. Not many people are willing to take advice from a cat, much less orders.”

“I’ll take the advice, though I’m not sure when I’ll be needing politics or… battle strategy or whatever,” Pidge said.

Lotor looked at her, eyes shrewd. “You’d be surprised. You’ve been getting closer to the young Marmora, correct? Even as only an assistant, that means politics and people trying to take advantage of you. The Jäger generals took notice before anyone else did, in some ways, and their opinions mean a lot. If I’m not mistaken, you don’t even know _why._ ”

“Well, yeah,” Pidge confirmed.

“Then that’s something to look into,” Lotor said. “Right now, you’re a Spark in the middle of breaking through. If the Baron deems you a dangerous one, that’s going to be bad news for you. Given what he did to Dr. Vapnoople…”

“Who?”

“Dimitri,” Lotor said, meeting her eyes again. “The bear toys.”

“Oh,” Pidge said, her stomach turning. “ _Oh._ ”

“I haven’t heard of the Baron repeating the experiment on anyone else, but I imagine it’s only a matter of time before he does, or perhaps finds someone to do it for him,” Lotor said, shaking his head. “You’re clever, not just Sparky. I imagine you might be the kind that some consider dangerous.”

“I just want to find my parents and go back to Beetleburg,” Pidge admitted. “I don’t want to do anything big.”

Lotor shook his head. “The Spark might change that. It does, for a lot of people.”

“That sounds awful.”

Lotor shrugged again.

“Do you think the Baron’s going to do that to Coran Smythe?” Pidge asked, stumbling a little over the name as she almost said the full thing. “He had him captive…”

“Ha!” Lotor laughed, leaping for the top of the dresser and a grate. “I doubt it. Those two have an interesting history, though it’s not very well-known. Coran will be gone in a day or two under his own power, I imagine. He’s a hero, after all, and very hard to kill.”

Pidge watched him go, the barest hints of worry in her belly curdling and growing stronger.

o.o.o.o.o

_It was a revelation._

_A dream._

_An epiphany._

_A—_

“Oh!” Pidge said, stumbling back as something floated to just in front of her face. Her jaw dropped a little. “Wwwwwwwwwhat are you?”

“You should know,” Keith’s voice dragged her attention away from the little black-and-green pyramid. He met her eyes and raised his eyebrows as he gestured to the ones that surrounded him. “You made them.”

“Whaaaaaaaaaat in the fuckening,” Pidge muttered. The little pyramid floated up and down a bit, making a chirruping noise, and Pidge decided that, weird or not, she was going to enjoy this. “I’m gonna call you Rover!”

“You’re going to call all of them that?” Keith asked.

“Nah, but this one’s clearly the leader,” Pidge said, watching as it floated off with a whirring noise. “I guess I could call the bunch of ‘em together drones. That sounds cool enough.”

“Because that’s so important when naming your creations,” Keith said.

Pidge shot him a look. “You named your lobster friend _Blade_.”

“I was _eight!”_

Pidge grinned, leaning back against the desk. She looked around at the clanks, all floating. “So, how do these things work? I’m not really seeing any gas bags, are you?”

“I wasn’t lying when I said you were the one that built them,” Keith said, gesturing around. “You made all this, probably starting a few nights ago, in your sleep.”

“Bullshit.”

“ _And_ they’re self-replicating,” he said, looking downright gleeful. “Look at this one. It doesn’t float like the rest, but it’s got the same design. A watched a few of the others build it while you were working.”

“You’re telling me I built something that _works_ ,” Pidge said, eyeing them doubtfully. “I… that _never_ happens.”

“Yeah, well, get used to it. You’re a Spark,” Keith told her, pointing in her direction with a screwdriver. “Things will work eventually, and in this case, I’d really love to know how. You made _floating technology_ without any visible means of support. That’s… unprecedented? It’s definitely Sparky.”

“A Spark? Dude, I barely made it as an assistant to an assistant, and _that_ was just because the _actual_ Spark who ran town was friends with my parents,” Pidge said. “I really don’t… I can’t be.”

“I mean, some Sparks don’t break through until their teens or later. You’re not exactly too old,” Keith said, tilting his head. “Besides, I want to know what the hell that’s all about.”

And then he pointed to some mess behind.

It looked… complicated.

“I was playing lab assistant all night, and I’m still not sure what you were building,” he told her. “I want to find out what it’s supposed to be.”

“And… since I apparently designed it…” Pidge trailed off, frowning.

She didn’t _like_ being left out of the loop, and the fact that the one leaving her out was _herself_ just made things worse.

Pidge walked closer to the machine, stalking around it and peering at everything that wasn’t hidden by the metal shell.

Keith stayed quiet behind her, apparently content to let her do her thinking in silence.

She’d only just started humming to clear her head when the alarms went off.

o.o.o.o.o

Going back to save Coran was _probably_ a good idea. Definitely one that made her a better person, right?

Granted, she lost him almost immediately afterwards to her own damn clank, but at least she got to find out what it was for.

(He’d probably be okay, if Keith was telling the truth.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm surprised at how easy it was to derail a whole bunch of conflict by just... having Pidge not care. Bye. Keep doing your macho stuff, she's leaving.
> 
> Lotor doesn't move quite the way Krosp does; he could, ostensibly, but he thinks he looks silly when he does, so he sticks to a more feline way of moving and sitting.
> 
> **Parallels introduced this chapter:**
> 
> Ezor - Bang (this was gonna be Nyma, but... well, things got moved around)  
> Druids - Geisterdamen  
> Rover - The first of the little clanks; he float


End file.
